


An Unholy Kiss

by samsbeecharmer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 07:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14515164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsbeecharmer/pseuds/samsbeecharmer
Summary: Straying slightly from canon, Meg and Castiel are on the hunt for Lucifer's crypts and a powerful weapon that lay entombed there.





	An Unholy Kiss

Meg leaned against the mausoleum, arms folded across her chest and her mouth tangy from the gum she’d been chewing. 

“I don’t understand. The spell should have worked.” Castiel muttered.

The angel seemed perplexed, his head cocked to one side in thought. 

“Out of the way, Feathers.”

Meg elbowed him out of the way and flashed him a hundred watt smile, nudging the door with the toe of her boot.

The heavy stone creaked open, spraying them both in dust and rotting corpse. 

“I could have done that,” Castiel grumbled.

“You’re an all powerful celestial being who couldn’t open a freaking door. Congratulations.” She rolled her eyes, grabbed the of his coat and dragged him into the musty room.

She pretended she wasn’t enjoying being as close to him as she was. Something about those baby blues just sucked her in. It made her want to hurl. She was a demon, daughter of a Prince of Hell, and all she could think about was cozying up to the Winchesters’ pet angel.

It was pitch dark inside. Meg pulled a small flashlight from her pocket and flipped it on. It was no different than the hundreds of burial chambers she’d visited in her long life, except for one thing.

“Hold this.” She shoved the flashlight into Castiel’s hand and braced herself against the top of the marble tomb.

“I’m not sure-.”

She ignored him and shoved the lid free, causing a hell of a racket and exposing a staircase that led deeper into the ground.

“Jinkies, Clarence. Looks like I found a clue.”

Castiel frowned, not understanding her reference.

“You’re certain this is the right one?”

She was already climbing into the sarcophagus to access the stairs.

“I was with him when he hid it. It’s been a few thousand years, and I don’t like to brag, but I have a pretty good memory.

He hoisted himself over the edge, lighting next to her with only the ease an angel could accomplish.

They were so close she could smell him, a strange combination of woodsmoke and clean laundry. Her breath hitched. His eyes were so damn blue…

“Let’s move,” she barked, turning away from him as quickly as she could manage. She flit down into the crypt like a firebug. She knew the Hand was there somewhere but neither she nor her angelic companion could touch it with their bare hands.

She went immediately to a tall shelf covered in all different-sized boxes, some with markings so ancient that even Castiel had difficulty translating them.

She found the one she wanted, a plain iron casket no larger than a bread box, and lifted it gently. She turned and nearly bowled over Castiel. 

“Anybody ever teach you about personal space, Clarence?”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He backed away.

She smirked and lifted the lid.

“A stick?”

“Boy, you really have been hanging out with the Winchesters too much. It’s not a stick, it’s part of the burning bush. You know, God’s attempt at speaking to Moses using fiery horticulture.”

“I don’t think-.”

Meg shoved the box into his arms. It was the only thing separating them and if she just stood on her toes she could put her mouth to his…

The memory of the only kiss they’d shared was seared into her and she wanted more, but he was an angel and she was a demon and it just couldn’t work. The cosmic design bullshit they were all slaves to was a constant downer.

He touched her hair, surprising her, and she wanted to lean into his hand but she knew she needed to stop it.

“Paws to yourself, angel,” she snapped playfully. Or, at least, that's what she intended. Instead, it rolled out in a soft, husky tone.

Before she lost her nerve, she grabbed the front of his trenchcoat and kissed him so thoroughly that her knees went weak.

He didn’t even have time to react properly before she was wiping her lipstick off of his chin. 

“If you tell anyone about this, I will end you.”

Castiel just looked stunned, clutching the sacred weapon against his chest where it had been participant to their unholy kiss.

“Hey!” Meg’s voice echoed. She must have gone back up. “You coming or what?”

Castiel smiled, tucking the box beneath his arm and following her out into the night, the tingle of her kiss still on his lips.


End file.
